Nothing Left
by TryxterWolfe
Summary: Just a little something. Not sure what I'm going to do with it, yet. Castiel/OC


Supernatural

The car ride back to Bobby's felt like forever. I was hunkered down in the back seat behind Sam, my mascara running down my face with my constant tears that I just couldn't shut off. I tried to block the images from flashing before my eyes, but it was impossible. I just kept seeing over and over, again, Castiel walking into the pond, falling beneath the surface and just...  
>I choked back a sob, the sound making Dean and Sam glance back at me from the front, Sam turning to check on me while Dean watched carefully from the rearview mirror with wet eyes. It took both boys to drag me away from the water's edge, Bobby trying to tell me that I was being a damn fool for wanting to go into the water after Castiel. He said the water was contaminated, but I didn't care. If I had my head on straight, I would have evaporated the entire water treatment plant of every drop of water to find Castiel.<br>"How are you doing back there?" Dean asked, glancing yet again in the rear view mirror at me. I didn't bother answering. I didn't have the energy, or the want to. I wasn't even sure I could respond with anything more than a whimper.  
>Castiel... He was... I clutched his still wet coat closer to my chest, and let the tears flow freely.<br>We reached Bobby's sometime during the night, or maybe it was the next night? I wasn't sure. Had I fallen asleep? I must have, since Dean was carrying me in his arms. They were wrapped firmly around me, letting me press my face into his shoulder. I was glad to be able to have the excuse to hide my face in his shirt. I pulled away enough to notice the black marks where my eyes had pressed to the fabric. My mascara was still running. It was the same color as the muck that rose from where Castiel had... A fresh wave of pain flooded over me, my fingers tightening over his back, catching his t-shirt a little. I sobbed as quietly as possible as we walked inside without pausing in his stride. His arms tightened around me, as if trying to keep me together as I convulsed silently in his embrace.  
>I was set on something soft, Dean sitting down next to me. He pulled me close, holding me against his chest. This kind of personal act wasn't something Dean had done often. But he did it well when it was called apon him to show compassion and comfort. I felt safe, but empty. So empty, I was amazed I could produce tears. Where was the water coming from? You needed to be human to produce tears. I felt like I was nothing but an empty shell. And yet, the tears kept coming, Dean's arms around me being the only thing keeping me from breaking into pieces.<br>I blinked my eyes open, seeing the familiar sight of Bobby's livingroom. Sunlight shown in from the window behind me. Somehow, it felt wrong. Rain should have been falling from dark clouds, blocking out the rays of light like a tarred window pane. But the sun still shined on. I felt hate toward the mocking rays falling on my face.  
>Sitting up, I looked around the room. It was empty, but voices carried from the kitchen.<br>"What the hell are we supposed to do, now, Bobby?" Dean's angry voice sounded, making me flinch. I rose to my feet, walking sluggishly to the source. I stopped when Sam spoke, his voice calmer, but still pained.  
>"Dean, keep it down. You're going to wake up Addy."<br>There was a pause, then the sound of someone ripping a chair across the floor. When Dean sighed, I assumed he had sat down.  
>"How's she doing, anyway?" Bobby asked.<br>"She's... not doing well. She's been crying in her sleep," Sam said. Was I? My face was wet as I touched it. I was glad to see that my salty tears were clear. Someone must have wiped up my face for me.  
>"I can't blame her," Dean said, roughly. "We all know how it feels..."<br>"Yeah," Sam whispered. He walked into view as he rummaged through the fridge for a moment. He turned with three beers in his hands, freezing when his eyes landed on me loitering in the hallway. "Addy," he said, his surprise fading to concern. I walked mechanically into the kitchen, not really looking at anyone directly. I saw from the corner of my eye that Dean lifted his head. Bobby was across from him. Everyone's eyes were train on me.  
>"I'm going to go get cleaned up," I whispered, my voice strained from not being used for a couple days. I didn't care enough to clear it to sound better.<br>No one followed me, or even called me back to the kitchen as I left, heading up the stairs to use the upstairs bathroom. I closed the door behind me, feeling like a puppet as I watched, emotionlessly, my hand turn the handle on to the bathtub and put the stopper down in the drain. I watched the water fill, then got up, stripping down to my bare skin. I wondered idly that if I had the ability to peal my skin away as well, if I would see anything underneath. The nothingness was eating away, slowly, at my insides, leaving my only layer of protection from the outside world last to chew through.  
>I stepped into the tub as it filled, the tingling of the hot water feeling so far away. I let it fill to my chin, then sat in the steaming water, everything submerged but my head.<br>Castiel must have felt like this. Only, his water was cold and shined like glass. No one saved him from walking to the water's edge. No one saved him from exploding into darkness. What became of him reminded me of blood, only so much thicker and black.  
>Castiel... I wasn't able to save him. I wasn't able to convince him to stop what he was doing, to leave purgatory alone. I had known the power of souls. I had read about the dangerous things lurking with them.<br>It didn't matter, now. Castiel was... He wasn't coming back. God wasn't going to save him, again. He really was just... gone.  
>I slid under the surface, intending to wet my hair and wash away the fresh tears that threatened to fall. But as I passed the skin of the water, I opened my eyes. The world was shimmering through the clear water. I could see the ceiling and part of the wall. I sunk a little deeper, seeing only the slightly yellowed spackle above, wavering in the soft light. Castiel didn't see like this. He probably couldn't see anything through the dirty pond water.<br>I closed my eyes. Yes, he probably had this kind of sight. Dark, lonely. Did his lungs begin to burn at all, before he disintigated, like mine did, now? I didn't take a propper breath before I submerged. Panic should be setting in any moment, but nothing came. Seconds ticked by, and still nothing. I only had the physical feeling of dull pain beginning to throb in my chest, and my throat was tightening uncomfortably. And yet, I didn't have the urge to give my lungs the air they screamed for.  
>I kept my eyes closed as I exhaled what small amount of air I did collect before sinking down to the bottom. It silently rose up, bursting to the surface. My chest immediately tried to expand, but quickly restricted on instinct, knowing what I was about to suck in wasn't the salvation it prayed for. It was liquid, choking. It meant I would drown. I still couldn't muster up a drop of urgency to move.<br>How much longer would I have to wait to see when I would finally give in and simply sit up, coughing and spitting up water in my efforts to breathe? It felt as if I could stay down here, forever. It seemed almost fitting. My angel drowned. Why not join him? It probably wouldn't take much longer. Another few seconds? I could already feel the pain beginning to numb. Maybe it would be just like falling asleep...  
>I was gripped by my arms, being yanked so harshly out of the tub that my shoulder felt like it was being pulled out of its socket. Someone was shouting. Their words were targetted at me. They kept repeating my name. Something wrapped around me, a hand patting my cheek. Then those same hands began to press against my chest, forcing it to move. The pressure made the water in my throat shoot from my nose and mouth, clearing for the air to fill my neglected lungs.<br>I was coughing, sputtering and hacking loudly. It was making my throat raw.  
>"What the hell were you doing?" my savior was yelling at me.<br>I finally opened my eyes. Dean was hovering over me, holding me upright while my coughing subsided. He looked all the more angry when I didn't respond, only turned away from him to look back at the rim of the tub. It dripped gently onto the palm of my hand that sat lifelessly on the floor next to me.  
>"Addy!" Dean practically screamed at me. I turned back to him, confused. Why was he so angry? I didn't understand.<br>"Why were you trying to drown yourself?"  
>Silly Dean. I wasn't 'trying' anything. It was effortless. All I had to do was relax and let the water do the rest.<br>"Answer me, dammit!" He shook me once. My hair was starting to feel cold on my bare back.  
>"I'm cold."<br>Dean's face fell in disbelief. I wanted to stand to go get dressed, or at least stop my cold hair from touching me. It was uncomfortable and gave me shivers.  
>"You try to off yourself, and all you have to say is that you're cold?" he asked, his voice not as angry. He sounded sad. No, not sad, concerned.<br>"Can I got get dressed, now?" I asked, hating how my skin was starting to take on sharp goosebumps.  
>Dean nodded, looking like he didn't know what else to say. He lifted me up in his arms, the same way he did when he carried me inside from the car not too long ago. I vaguely noticed Sam standing with Bobby in the hallway, making way for us.<br>It wasn't long before he depositted me onto the bed I was very familiar with. But it was different, now. Emptier.  
>Dean gave me clothes to dress in, and I did as he stood out in the hallway with Sam and Bobby. I caught parts of their converstation, but it was hard to focus.<br>"What was she doing, trying to drown herself?" Dean's strained voice carried to me.  
>"She's in pain," Sam said. Always the reasoning one. "Losing Cas hurt her more than any of us."<br>"Yeah, but to kill herself?" Dean asked.  
>"She was in love with him," Sam said. "She watched him walk into a pond and turn into a bunch of ooze. It's affected her pretty badly."<br>"We're going to have to set up shifts, to watch her," Bobby said. "She could try this, again." Always the one with a plan.  
>"I'll do the first watch," Dean said. Always the first one on the job.<br>"Okay. I'll be up around two, then," Sam said.  
>I had laid down in bed by the time Dean came back in the room. My hair was still soaked and threatening to knot, but I wasn't interested in combing it out. So, I just laid my head on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling. I found the familiar shapes in the cracked plaster, ones I had memorized since my first nights ever being in this house. Before I knew about demons, monsters and angels.<br>"You hungry?" Dean asked. I rolled my head to look at him, then shook it gently. He frowned. "You haven't eaten in a couple days. You should have something."  
>"I'm tired," I said. There was that frown, again. He followed it with a sigh, sitting on the empty side of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before turning to me.<br>"Go to sleep. I'll be here if you need anything."  
>I nodded, again. Curling up on my side, I didn't bother getting comfortable, sleep taking me in seconds.<p>

I leaped up into a sitting position, screaming so loudly, I thought my voice was going to give out. Dean was instantly there, wrapping me up in his arms.  
>"Shhh," he soothed. "Shhhh, it's okay."<br>"No! Castiel!" I gasped, my throat closing as my eyes began to spill like torrents of water down my face. I sobbed wildly into his chest, unable to control my cries of pain.  
>"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "It's okay. You're not alone."<br>That was how mostly every night went for weeks. The first couple nights, Sam and Bobby would run upstairs in a panic. But after the first three or four times, only Sam would come up every now and then, more to check on things than hurrying to see if I was in danger. Dean stayed with me during the nights, at the ready for when my nightmares struck.  
>On the third week, I was beginning to feel badly for what I was putting Dean through. He didn't have to be the one to stay awake with me while I cried. He didn't have to bring me food or made sure I even ate it. <p>


End file.
